


Clear and simple and plain

by Trojie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Schmoop, Season/Series 09, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam gives up the Trials, things start getting better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear and simple and plain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Colette_Capricious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colette_Capricious/gifts).



> For colette_capricious, who responded to my last little ficlet with 'You are a terrible person. Now at least make them kiss' - here you are, dear. I made them kiss, just for you. And then they got carried away. (I am definitely a terrible person). Title from 'Glycerine' by Bush.

The first time Sam goes for a run after giving up the trials, it feels amazing. _He_ feels amazing. The sun shines, gleams off the Impala's chrome as Sam, on the last leg of his impromptu circuit, sweeps back down the road towards where his brother is lovingly polishing her. Dean looks up and shades his eyes to watch as Sam comes towards him, and he smiles a proper, full-blooded Dean Winchester smile like Sam hasn't seen in years. 

Everything just feels so good, so right - with the world in general and between them in specific. Sam feels like he can read Dean like he used to be able to, like they're back in sync, and Dean's still so freaking beautiful he takes Sam's breath away even after so many years, leaning against his car all freckles in the sunshine. Sam doesn't even think, just jogs right up to his brother and kisses him, warm and happy and automatic. 

It's their first proper kiss in five years.

Dean's mouth opens on a soft indrawn breath, surprised, and his hand comes up to catch Sam's jaw and hold him for another moment, then pushes him away. 

'You stink, Tiger Woods.'

'He's a golfer, Dean.'

'Whatever. You need a shower.' Dean basically pushes Sam down the bunker stairs, snapping him in the ass with his polishing cloth as he passes, but Sam looks up as he opens the door and sees Dean smile again, just a little flicker, and thinks maybe he's winning something back that he thought he'd lost forever.

***

The last few years, they've barely touched like that except for angry fucking, the kind that isn't make-up sex and isn't break-up sex because they can't do either - it's just a release of pressure and nothing gets fixed at all.

But that kiss in the sunshine starts something and it's like they're teenagers again, stealing any sliver of contact they can get away with when Kevin's not looking, like hiding from Dad all over again except for if Kevin finds out Sam has a funny feeling he won't care, at least, not the way Dad would have. 

Dean ducks into a doorway early in the morning and yanks Sam with him and kisses Sam until he's weak in the knees - and then pushes him out to go make coffee. 

Sam retaliates with a grope in the war-room, pushes Dean up against the big table so he can't get away and runs his hands all over Dean's body up under his shirt until they're both panting and hard and hot for it and it almost goes even further except they hear Kevin coming down the hallway and have to break apart and fake nonchalance through a conversation about Metatron that should have caught Sam's attention a lot more than it did. 

It's getting out of hand. 

Sam wants to ease Dean down onto a bed and pull his clothes off piece by piece and kiss him stupid and breathless while he's doing it - he wants to blanket Dean in his weight and wrestle over who's pitching and who's catching this time around the way they used to, he wants to bury himself in Dean's body and he wants to ride him and he wants to relearn the feel of Dean when he's not strung tight and full of anger. He wants so many things. He wants his brother. He wants his brother _back_. 

Dean winks at Sam when Kevin's said his piece, hooks his thumb through his beltloop and swaggers off to the dungeon to check on Crowley after the impromptu briefing breaks up, and Sam's breath catches in his throat. 

'Please tell me I don't need to give you the Talk my mom gave me,' Kevin says drily from behind Sam. He's sat down at the table with the angel tablet again while Sam's been … distracted. 'Thank God this place is soundproof as well as bombproof.'

'… what?'

Kevin rolls his eyes, but there's a smile twitching somewhere underneath the exasperation. 'I'm not blind, Sam. Or deaf. Or stupid. Or incapable of picking up on really blatant subtext.'

'Kevin, it's -' Sam scrabbles desperately for a cover, but it's hard to lie to someone who's bullseyed the truth, and Sam … doesn't really want to lie about this. Not to Kevin, who's the closest thing Sam's got to a little brother, the closest thing, after Cas, that he and Dean have to family. Cas knows - he knew from before, from years ago, from pulling Dean out of Hell when everything in Dean was laid bare. He told Sam that once, while he was drunk and the Apocalypse was nigh - told Sam that Dean loved him and that was why they were the vessels. Sam doesn't know if Cas remembers that. 

'It's exactly what it looks like,' Kevin retorts, and Sam gives up. If he can work it out himself, he definitely deserves to know, and fuck it, the kid's been through enough shit that he's practically an honorary Winchester anyway. 'Now will you please go and get it out of your systems so I don't have to keep averting my eyes from blatant PDA?'

Sam blinks at him. 'Uh. Thanks? I mean, sorry about the -'

'Just go,' Kevin suggests, voice a little rough like he wants to laugh but is trying to stay serious. Sam goes, because he's good at following orders in ridiculous circumstances. 

Dean's locking the door back up on Crowley when Sam finds him. 

'How's he doing?' Sam asks, because he can't just push Dean up against the dungeon door and kiss him right where Crowley could hear and, knowing him, probably critique their performance. 

'Still alive, still annoying,' Dean says, shrugging and dropping the key back in his pocket. 'Still chained up.'

'Is it the chains, though, or is it the wards?' Sam asks, because that's been bugging him. 'We gotta try and figure out how much of him's still a demon and how much is just him being a pain in the ass.'

'You can use him as your science-fair project later,' Dean says. He starts walking back through the archives towards the exit. 'Right now we should eat. Gotta build your strength back up.' He turns back to look at Sam, squinting a little in the low light. 'How're you doing, anyway?'

For once Sam doesn't have to lie when he says, 'Good. Really good, Dean.'

Dean looks him up and down, and a slow smile crosses his face. 'Yeah. You look real good, Sammy.'

***

Dean tastes different now than he used to. Sam can't help mapping out the changes. It's still just kissing, technically. Still just Sam's mouth and tongue on Dean's skin and them sprawled out over that mattress Dean's so proud of. Naked.

'Sweet Jesus, Sam,' Dean pants, fingers clenching and releasing and carding through Sam's sweaty hair. 'C'mon, stop fucking teasing.'

Sam nudges Dean's thighs wider, licks under his hipbone, presses a gentle bite to the soft skin of his belly and keeps moving. He wants to memorise this - the salt and the warm tang of Dean and the way he twitches and breathes and moves under Sam's hands when Sam kisses the base of his dick. He groans, too, thumps his head back into the pillow like a complaint.

'I just wanna do this, shut up,' Sam huffs against Dean's balls. He very, very gently mouths at one of them and both of Dean's knees jerk up. 'I wanna,' Sam says when he pulls off, moving on to kiss down Dean's thigh, 'feel you again.' He noses against Dean's dick, and when Dean moans like he's about to expire Sam figures, okay, maybe enough is enough. He looks up and catches Dean's eyes. 'I missed this,' he says, trying to explain. 'I missed _you_.'

He swallows Dean down before he can get smacked and told that this is no time for chick-flick moments, and the way Dean melts into the mattress is just the same it always was, the way he pets Sam and strokes him, rakes his fingernails along Sam's scalp all tingly, fuck, Sam forgot he could be like this, so sweet and generous and giving before Sam can take. 

'Sammy, Sammy please,' Dean's panting, already half-gone and just his voice is sending Sam rutting into the mattress, breathing in Dean's scent through his nose and losing himself in finding this again. 'I'm gonna - Sam, whoa, it's too much, I'm -'

Sam wants him to. Sam snakes his own hand down to touch himself, not that it's gonna take much with Dean about to come, fighting to hold himself back. Sam slides up a little bit and then down again, can't quite get the angle to take Dean all the way down his throat like this but he's giving it his best shot, humping into his own hand and teetering on the edge of orgasm. 

Dean comes like a firework, bright and sharp and heavy with aftershocks, the taste of him overwhelming in Sam's mouth, and he stutters to breathe and clenches under Sam's touch and Sam follows him like a dog on a lead, yanked by the same strings, tied together like they always are, into a burst of pyrotechnics of his own, white-hot in the dark behind his eyes. God, it feels so good, coming with Dean's hand in his hair, Dean's breathing in time with his frantic pulse. 

When he gets his breath back, Sam pulls off as soft as he can, kitten-licks at Dean where he's messy, too far gone to try and actually lift himself up and off. Dean's thigh makes a good pillow, so he stays there. 

Dean keeps carding his fingers through Sam's hair, brushing it back from his face, tucking it behind his ear. 'So,' he says after a few minutes.

'Yeah,' says Sam, but the way Dean smiles down at him says more. He pets Dean's knee, which is the only thing he can reach without effort, and waits for something awful to happen. Nothing does. They go long, slow, gorgeous minutes in total silence, naked and together, and the universe totally fails to go to shit. Maybe their streak's finally broken.

'We should probably get up before Kevin comes looking for us or tries to murder Crowley again,' Dean says, maybe twenty minutes after that, and Sam groans. 

'Oh, crap,' he says. 'Uh, Kevin's not gonna come looking for us,' he says. 'He kind of threatened to give me a Mom Talk and requested less PDA. We may have scarred him for life. Again.'

'Oh crap,' says Dean, levering himself into a sitting position. 'Guess he really is one of the family now, huh?'

'If he's family do I have to put on pants to eat my dinner?' Sam groans into Dean's leg. Dean pushes him off and gets up. Sam sits up too, but gets hit in the face with his own boxers before he can even blink.

'If Kevin can't deal with PDA he doesn't get to ogle your ass,' Dean says sternly.

***

When they make it out to the library Dean yanks Sam in for another kiss, though, and it goes on long enough for Kevin to groan 'Eww, gross, you guys,' and throw a wad of balled up paper at them.

The universe still doesn't end. That's good enough for Sam.


End file.
